


A Book Club Tinted Green

by PTwritesmore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Jealous Hermione Granger, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, POV Hermione Granger, Pining Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28943535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTwritesmore/pseuds/PTwritesmore
Summary: When Hermione and Draco's weekly book club gets interrupted by Draco's gorgeous and brilliant coworker, Hermione's reaction surprises herself. How will Hermione deal with a visit from a green eyed monster? A sweet Dramione one shot requested by all-consuming on Tumblr.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 45
Kudos: 237





	A Book Club Tinted Green

“Next time I’m sending you to the bar,” Draco Malfoy said as he placed a very full glass of elf wine in front of Hermione Granger. He slid into the booth across from her with the same measured elegance he did everything else. “It takes much longer for me to get the bartender's attention than for you.”

“Only when it is Reggie’s shift,” Hermione replied after taking a large sip of her wine. “He seems to be the only bartender impervious to your charms.”

“That must be why I don’t like him.” Draco shot a glare at the bartender, who was currently leaning nearly over the bar flirting with a ginger witch. 

“Oh, stop that. We got interrupted when you went up and I want to hear the rest of the story before we talk about the book. You just finished telling off the smuggler. I suppose the Chief Warlock didn’t appreciate your snark today?” Hermione asked the blond wizard across from her, knowing full well the answer. “Or perhaps the entire Wizgamont?”

“They never do,” Draco smirked. “That’s the toughest part about being a barrister, the lack of humor.” His easy sarcasm earned him an eye roll. 

“Well, what did your team decide to do about the charges? Did the smuggler take the plea deal?” As the man across from her launched back into the story, Hermione found she was having a hard time concentrating on what he was saying. It was becoming a more common occurrence, where his words would fall away as she focused on watching him, tracing his jawline and analyzing the exact shade of grey his eyes were that day. Whenever she caught herself doing it, she’d push away the internal confusion that surfaced at her distraction and preoccupy herself with whatever was in front of her to make sure she could truly listen to her friend. 

Their friendship was an odd one, forged in a shared fire of feeling profoundly alone. Though she loved her friends who had returned to Hogwarts for their eighth year, being at Hogwarts without Ron and Harry was like missing a piece of herself. Hermione spent most of her time alone in the library, allowing herself to escape into her studies while simultaneously avoiding spaces that reminded her of her best friends. When Hermione and Draco were assigned as potion partners a few months into the term, she knew she wasn’t alone in her dread. But something strange happened during their first assignment: Draco Malfoy apologized. He had already, of course, just before his trial. But he apologized in private, with nothing on the line. Hermione decided she would give him a blank slate. 

The blossom of friendship started slowly, the seed first planted by Draco staying at her usual library table past their potions work, silently working on a charms essay. She realized then that she’d only seen the wizard alone outside of class, his friends either not back at Hogwarts or not acknowledging his existence. Hermione wondered for weeks if she should try to talk to him. Then he’d brought a book for pleasure with him one day, which the witch was shocked to realize was a muggle philosophy book. The resulting argument about Nietzsche kicked off what was now a weekly tradition and the foundation for their friendship: Thursday night muggle book club. 

In the five years they’d been friends, she’d had the pleasure of watching him shed the tortured, sullen boy and become a thriving, good man. Gone were the permanent purple circles under his gray eyes, the malicious sneer that was usually fixed to his face, and the tendency to look down his nose at others in that unnerving elitist way. Instead, behind his grey eyes was a warmth that made Hermione feel like she’d been wrapped in a hug everytime they made eye contact. A sarcastic laugh brought her attention back to said man. 

“And you’ll never believe what Astoria said to Smith when we got back to the chambers.”

Astoria. There was that name again, and along with it a feeling deep in her gut she hadn’t felt since she was in her sixth year at Hogwarts. Ever since Astoria Greengrass joined his team months ago, Draco raved about the woman. Her unwelcome presence in their conversations had been accompanied with this muted feeling of uneasiness that Hermione was still working hard to ignore. Hermione swallowed roughly, pasting on a smile to match his.

“And what did she say?” Hermione asked as nonchalantly as possible, not caring in the slightest, but indulging the man across from her. 

“Well she...wait,” he paused, catching sight of something just past her shoulder. He broke out into that snobbish grin he reserved for friends like Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott. “You won’t need to hear it from me, she can tell you. Astoria!” He called, raising his hand to catch her attention. “You can finally meet her. You’ll love this witch, Granger.”

Hermione turned only to see the most beautiful women she’d ever laid eyes on, excluding Fleur Delacour. The tall, thin woman with pin straight honey blonde hair was draped in silky blue dress robes that hugged every curve. Without a scar or visible flaw, Astoria Greengrass looked like she’d been produced in some sort of lab, created as some sort of perfect woman experiment. As the witch approached the table, Hermione caught herself absentmindedly scratching her left forearm through the long sleeve of her jumper. She immediately withdrew her hands from the table, sitting on them for good measure. 

“Astoria,” Draco drawled, standing and kissing the gold standard of pureblood breeding on both cheeks. It flustered Hermione how quickly Draco could slip back into the role of pureblood elitist, especially with those of certain families. “What are you doing here?” As the wizard welcomed her, Hermione decided that Astoria had to have some sort of glaring flaw. No one could be this beautiful and as kind, intelligent, and ruthless in the courtroom as Draco had droned on about these past few months. 

“I was at that fundraiser ball for St. Mungo’s and a few of us came out from drinks. Ran into your mother actually. Apparently you were supposed to be there, but you were feeling too ill to grace us with your presence,” the tall witch said, leaning in as though they were sharing some sort of joke. Hermione worked her bottom lip, wondering why Draco hadn’t mentioned this obligation to her. 

“Ah, well I have a standing engagement on Thursdays,” Draco said as he turned and winked at Hermione. Her heart flipped at the action, surprising her. “Miss Hermione Granger, may I present Miss Astoria Greengrass? Miss Greengrass, Miss Granger.”

“It is an absolute pleasure to meet you Miss Granger,” Astoria said, a warmth in her eyes and her voice that prompted a rush of guilt within Hermione. “I’ve been dying to meet you since the war ended, but especially to get to know the woman Draco won’t stop talking about.”

“Hermione, if you please. I feel the same way,” Hermione lied in as even a tone as she could manage. “Draco talks about you constantly, so I’ve been curious as well. I hear you were a major asset to the Veela trafficking case.” The two blondes smiled at each other and that feeling in Hermione’s gut intensified. She wondered if she was coming down with something, or perhaps the fish she’d had at lunch was bad.

“No date tonight?” Draco looked back at the group Astoria had come in with and scanned the members carefully. Hermione found she had to actively beat back the sneer forming on her facing when she detected the interest in his voice. The brunette decided it was definitely the fish at lunch that had her feeling so unlike herself, and nothing else. 

“Unfortunately not. The only one I’m interested in is still playing hard to get.” She gave Draco a pointed look and Hermione’s heart plummeted. Frustrated tears began pricking her eyes, though she wasn’t sure why. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I just need to pop into the loo,” Hermione said, standing at a breakneck speed. Before either could respond she rushed into the pub’s loo and locked the door. Leaning over the running water in the sink, she splashed a bit of water on her face and took a deep breath. 

“Get it together, Granger,” Hermione coached herself in the mirror. “Why are you even upset? The witch out there seems just as lovely as Draco said. He’s your friend and you should be overjoyed that he’s found someone like that.” But at that moment she felt anything but overjoyed, her reflected mouth twisting into a grimace at the idea of Draco dating Astoria. “Am I...jealous?” Hermione whispered, narrowing her eyes at her reflection in confusion. Putting a word to the feeling she’d been suppressing for the last few weeks was like setting up an electric rod in the middle of a storm; an electric understanding shot through her. Hermione gasped at the realization, unwilling to come to terms with her potential feelings in a pub bathroom of all places. 

The idea of returning to their table only to watch Draco flirt with Astoria on their sacred day turned her stomach; it was Thursday book club for Merlin’s sake, a standing appointment they’d had for years. Releasing a breath, Hermione steeled herself while avoiding her own gaze in the mirror. She knew it would call her a coward, that inner part of herself that apparently had these feelings rife with disappointment. She opened the loo door and slithered out, walking quickly towards the pub’s side door without a glance at the table she knew Draco and Astoria were still at. She wondered if they were already kissing, taking advantage of the opportunity she’d presented by running to the loo. With a small groan, she tried to push the mental image out of her mind. 

As she walked down the back alley, Hermione tried to think of the best excuse she could provide Draco by owl when she got home. Probably food poisoning. Then she’d make some tea and try to put all her feelings down on paper so she could sort through this swirl of emotions overtaking her. As she formulated her plan, a door slammed behind her and heavy footsteps started walking her way, pushing Hermione to speed up. 

“Granger!” Hermione kept walking, hoping to hit the apparition point before he could catch up. “Granger!” The deep voice was closer now. “Hermione!” Unfortunately, Draco’s long legs gave him an advantage and he was by her side within seconds. “Hermione! Did you not hear me calling you?” he asked, his tone gravely and full of concern. “Are you okay?” Draco grabbed her wrist gently and tugged her to stop. 

“Yes, splendid,” she said, still looking straight down the alley at sweet escape. Even in her peripheral, Draco’s presence was overwhelming, his tall form towering over her. “Just splendid, but I must be off.” Hermione could hear the contempt dripping from her voice. 

“Well, where are you going?” Draco asked gruffly, irritation quickly surfacing. 

“Home.” Hermione wondered if Draco was planning to let go of her wrist at any point. For all the time they spent together, they rarely touched past a greeting or goodbye hug. Now all she could focus on was how shockingly rough his hands were, even though they were well-kempt. Hermione wondered if it was from his obsessive flying habit. 

“We didn’t even get to talk about the bloody book!” Draco exclaimed, finally drawing Hermione’s attention towards him as he waved the copy she left behind in the air. The thin wizard scowled down at her. “Did you really think I was going to like this Austen woman’s writing? If I wanted more societal bullshit, I would have gone home to the manor.”

“We can talk about it another time,” Hermione said quietly, now gazing down at her feet against the cobblestones. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“In the way of what?”

“With Astoria,” Hermione answered lamely. “Clearly, I’d be interfering and I wanted to give you room to pursue her. When Ron was trying to impress a girl before he started seeing Susan, I’d leave so she wouldn’t think we were together.”

“Astoria?” Draco repeated after a beat. “You think I’m pursuing _Astoria_?” 

“Erm - yes?” The blond let loose a bark of laughter, transforming Hermione’s mood instantly from embarrassed to angry. “What is so funny?”

“Two things I suppose. First, that you think I’m pursuing Astoria Greengrass of all people,” Draco said, drawing out the woman’s name. Hermione felt a bit offended on Astoria’s behalf at that reaction. “I mean, really, Granger.”

“Is it that hard to believe? She’s a brilliant barrister, stunning, and comes from the same upbring you had. You talk about her _all_ the time.”

“She is a friend, my only one at work,” said Draco with a shrug. “Do you want to know why?”

“Because you think Zacariahs Smith is a pompous ass, and most of the others in the office still avoid you. Except for Johnson, but you hate working with him because you think everything about the wizard is apparently a mess.” Draco pursed his lips as she spoke. 

“I suppose I should thank you for listening to me complain about work,” Draco said, amusement swiftly replacing the irritation in his voice. “I thought she’d be like Daphne, who is not a very serious person. However, the more I talked to her, the more I thought you’d like her.”

“Me?”

“Of course you,” Draco huffed. “Plus there is the small fact that she's interested in women.” Hermione started at the revelation, turning his words over in her head. “I know you actively avoid the gossip column nonsense, but if you ever glanced at it, you’d see her and her dates - female dates - featured regularly. 

“But she said earlier the person she wanted to ask was hard to-”

“You think she meant me?” Draco was laughing again, though it was a genuine laugh rather than the sarcastic ones he usually let loose. “The _person_ she wanted to ask is a woman. She's hopelessly in love with Pansy Parkinson, who is playing hard to get. Pansy is notoriously difficult, loves to push boundaries.”

“I see,” Hermione said quietly, letting silence fill the gap between them. The only thing keeping the small space from feeling like a cavern was Draco’s hold on her wrist, which he still hadn’t released. She could feel the tension that had built from when she first set eyes on Astoria melting away. “What was the second thing?”

“Pardon?” Draco asked, his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. With each lazy circle of the pad of his thumb, Hermione felt a shiver down her spine. 

“The second thing you found funny,” Hermione forced out, her curiosity winning out over the sudden adrenaline rush from his touch. 

“That you’d think I’d be pursuing any other woman when I am completely smitten,” Those two words echoed in her head, methodically snuffing out that little spark of hope that his dismissal of Astoria created. Hermione tugged her arm away, stepping back from him. 

“I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.” Hermione cursed herself for how small her voice sounded in that moment. She crossed her arms in front of her, swallowing hard. 

“For the smartest witch alive you really are excessively dim sometimes,” Draco sighed, hoisting his eyes skyward as though he were searching for patience among the stars. “You, Granger. Obviously I am smitten with you.” He brought his gaze back down, steel eyes staring intensely at her. “And I can’t believe you made me come out and say it like that.”

“You aren’t interested in me!” Hermione sputtered, her mind racing to keep up with what he’d said. 

“And what would you call our little Thursday happy hours?” Draco was frowning now, his pale brows furrowed. 

“You mean our book club?”

“Book club,” Draco scoffed. “Yes, our book club. Hermione, I’ve been reading a book a week for you for nearly half a decade! Do you know how busy I am?” Hermione realized he’d never cancelled on her, or asked if they could spread a book across multiple weeks due to his schedule. “And what about our weekend adventures into the muggle world?”

“I thought you wanted to learn more about muggles,” Hermione said suspiciously. 

“I did!” Draco responded quickly, holding both hands up as if to emphasize his interest. “And I do. Of course I do. But we’ve spent at least one weekend day together every weekend for how many months. It is a lot of time for friends to spend together.” Draco let out a frustrated groan. “I mean, I’ve tried everything you’ve thrown at me; art museums, the cinema, that bloody death trap eye contraption on the Thames. I even went to the zoo with you! The bloody zoo! You talk a big game about the treatment of magical beasts and then you make me go to the zoo. Talk about inhumane conditions, absolutely barbaric.”

“You said you liked the zoo!” Hermione protested, cutting into his rant. 

“I said I liked going to the zoo with you, which are two remarkably different things.” He quirked an eyebrow at her and they both fell silent for a moment. 

“Well, you didn’t complain about the zoo at the time,” Hermione said, her volume nearly inaudible. “They play an important role in conservation, you know.” 

“Sod the zoo! Hermione, it isn’t about the zoo.” He took a deep breath. “It isn’t about anywhere we’ve been or anything we’ve done. It's about me and you.”

“But you’ve never been interested in me,” Hermione said in disbelief, still confused why he’d be playing this kind of game with her. “You’ve never made a move.”

“How could I possibly? How could I pursue a girl who hated me, who I stood by and watched get...” Draco trailed off. “I failed you, Hermione, since the very moment we met. There was no way I could come out and try to court you.”

  
“What are you saying?” Hermione was certain her heart had stopped beating, that she’d stopped breathing. 

“I’m saying that I would go anywhere with you and do anything with you. I’ve been falling all over myself for you for years, wishing I could spend all my time with you, soaking in the brilliance that is Hermione Granger.” Draco’s voice wavered, but the words kept pouring out at a speed Hermione had never heard him speak at before. “I’m saying I often get so lost in your eyes, I sometimes can’t tell if a minute has passed or an hour. I’ve done everything in my power not to mess up our friendship, not to lose you because even though this attraction has been one-sided, just being in your presence is enough for me. I’m saying that I’m in love with you, Hermione Granger. Fully, all-consumingly in love with you.” Hermione felt the air get thinner around them as he spoke, finding it hard to breath. 

“Oh.” For all Hermione’s impressive command of the English language, that was the only word that she could conjure in her shock. For the first time in her life, Hermione didn’t have a single thing to say. Draco’s face fell as time stretched on in silence and eventually he slammed his eyes shut, his face contorted with pain and embarrassment. 

“Look, I’ve mucked this up,” he muttered, looking down at his perfectly polished shoes and kicking at imaginary dirt. “I thought maybe with how you were acting that you felt the same way, but clearly I-” 

Hermione closed the distance between them in two small steps and launched herself up on her toes, tipping her head back and kissing him. His reaction, though delayed, was intense. His hands grabbed her waist, pulling her closer until she collided with his chest. From there one hand slid around the small of her back and the other found its way into her curls. Encouraged, Hermione traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue until he parted his lips and kissed her back with a fervent urgency. The witch clung to Draco’s solid form like he was the only thing steady as the world took dizzying spins around her. 

They broke apart and Hermione studied his face, letting out a raggedy breath. His usually pale cheeks with flushed pink, his usually haughty jaw was slack, and his usually smug lips were now sporting the same pink color as her tinted balm.

“Oh,” Draco echoed back, sounding like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He coughed, composing himself. “Right then,” he said, giving her the smuggest smirk she’d ever seen. He bent down once again to meet her lips, but was met with a hand to his chest. 

“If you think we aren’t going to discuss your dig about Jane Austen, you’re sorely mistaken.” The smirk continued to tug at his lips as he straightened up. 

“Could I take you to dinner? We can talk about your terrible taste in books on our first date,” Draco said as he offered her his arm. Hermione nodded and looped her arm through his, happy to let Thursday book club transform into Thursday date night. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing a request! Feel free to comment if you have a request for a oneshot or ficlet or slide into my DMs on Tumblr (PTwritesmore)


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